


Frogs and Freaking Flower Petals

by SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash



Series: Segmented (A Collection of Spideychelle One-shots) [2]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, in which MJ is definitely NOT a nervous potato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash/pseuds/SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash
Summary: In which MJ loses a bet, and the results leave Peter speechless.





	Frogs and Freaking Flower Petals

**Author's Note:**

> //A oneshot idea I had in the car yesterday that was really, really fun to write. ;)

 

 

“-so, then we can get started on the Millenium Falcon model I got, right, and my mom said that I can stay over with you guys-”

“Ned,” Peter interrupts for what has got to be at least the third time, running a hand through his curly hair. “Where’s MJ?” 

Ned pauses in his speech, and when his gleeful eyes meet his best friend’s, Peter understands. Ned has been ranting for the effect, and he is clearly very excited about something. Whatever it is, the look of pure mischief cannot bode well for anyone; in this case, it cannot bode well for MJ. 

“Well,” Ned begins, taking his sweet time to draw out his moment, “there was this bet, right?” 

“Right... Yeah, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Peter admits, shaking his head. He glances at the spot that MJ has been occupying for weeks now. 

It is across from him and directly beside Ned so that she has the optimal spot for stealing his food, and it is where they have come to expect her to be during their discussions so that she can either interject with a sarcastic comment or offhandedly end the whole debate in a single sentence. She didn’t exactly ask to sit with them, nor did they invite her. The best way to describe it was that MJ is sort of like a cat, who sits where she wants near people she is comfortable with. 

Up until about a month ago, she was not interested in their company. But that had changed after a fateful day when they had started arguing about the usefulness of the character Fleur Delacour in Harry Potter. MJ had spoken up from one side of the table to point out the fact that Fleur was, in fact, a badass, and then after that, they had begun to ask her questions every once in a while. MJ did not hesitate to call them out as losers, but she put her two cents in when they were interested, and most of the time her input made whatever discussion Ned and Peter were having several times better. 

MJ had started sitting slightly closer so she could hear better when they asked her something, and Peter and Ned had started to scoot closer to her end of the table bit by bit.

Now, MJ was comfortable with them and often came with them to binge movies at Peter’s house, where she would sometimes sketch particularly iconic moments. After seeing them, May had complimented them, and then drawings of moments from the rom-coms that May kept stacked on the TV stand began to appear on the refrigerator. 

It is the first time since all of that has happened that MJ is not at lunch, and even though Peter and Ned have sat together every year for as long as he can remember, it now feels weird. 

“You passed out last night, man,” Ned accuses, opening a plastic bag filled with grapes. “If you were awake during  _Return of the King_ you would know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

“But I don’t,” Peter presses, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “So are you gonna tell me?” 

“MJ and I made a bet,” Ned says smugly, putting a few grapes in his mouth at a time. 

“That never works out well for you, man,” Peter cautions as he takes a bite of Ramen. He says the next bit through a partially full mouth. “You never win, not with her. She remembers every line of every movie.” 

“I won this one,” Ned announces, and now Peter understands why his eyes are so devious. “She got a quote wrong, the one where Gandalf is saying goodbye to the hobbits. She forgot the part where he says ‘at last,’ and I got it right. She's probably sulking right now.”

Peter’s own eyes shoot open, and he drops his fork into his ramen. “No way, man,” he exclaims, and his eyes are wide and excited as he looks to Ned, who is practically preening. “What did you get her to do?” 

The tradition following the bets is that whoever wins gets to make the loser do something uncomfortable. It can be embarrassing, like the time MJ forced Ned to ask at least five in-depth questions during the Sex Ed unit of PE, or it can just be uncomfortable, such as telling Ned he had to go a whole day at school wearing his shirt inside out.

Peter isn't sure if there's anything in the world that would make MJ uncomfortable. There are things she's opposed to, sure, but she's got a self-assured nature that is extremely rare among their age group, or any age group, really. She's comfortable in her own skin, so what could Ned possibly have chosen?

Ned’s eyes lock on something over Peter’s shoulders by the lunchroom doors. He grins, and his voice is filled with glee. “That,” he announces, and Peter turns to look. 

When his eyes find MJ, he doesn’t recognize her at first, and his eyes must be the size of saucers. She’s MJ, and she’s wearing one of her hoodies and has her hair thrown up in a bun the way that she does on days when she can’t get it to listen. But she doesn’t look like MJ, because she is wearing bright red lipstick. 

Peter is pretty sure that his jaw has dropped, and he probably looks like a frog as he stares at her, but he can’t help it. This is Michelle “Wore Pajamas to School for Picture Day” Jones, the one who rants to them constantly about the cruelty of animal testing in the cosmetic industry. He has never seen her do anything like this, and it is the least MJ thing he has ever seen. 

But she looks good... Really, really good, and Peter had noticed that she had a nice mouth before, but this is different. He noticed it the way that you notice anything good about a friend, kind of filing it away as a basic fact. The sky is blue, Flash Thompson is a dick, and MJ is pretty in an effortless sort of way. 

But he hasn’t ever looked at her like this before, and now he can’t look away. 

MJ hears whispering, and she ducks her head as she slides into her spot beside Ned. "You're an asshole, Leeds. Finding cruelty-free makeup isn't easy. I spent like three hours looking for this stupid stuff, so if I fail today's Physics assignment it's your fault."

Though her words are as sharp as ever, Peter can tell that MJ is not as confident as she normally is. To anyone else, she might look the same as always. But today she is avoiding people’s gazes where she normally would have stared them down, and her shoulders are slightly drawn together. When she looks up at Peter, he swears he can see a little hint of pink in her cheeks. Peter has never seen Michelle Jones uncomfortable before today.

“Parker, I know that you have a frog mouth, but I’m pretty sure that watching it collect flies would be uncomfortable for those of us that aren’t part amphibian,” she mutters leaning over to pull her messenger bag closer to the table. 

Peter immediately closes his mouth, and as MJ reaches into her bag for a book, he turns to Ned. Ned is giving him what is his version of a smirk, and Peter is sure his eyes are still massive. When MJ turns, she has a copy of  _Heart-Shaped Box_ in her hands. Peter is certain she does not miss the look between them, but she does not say anything.

MJ flips open the book, reaching over to steal a grape from Ned. He halfheartedly swats at her hand, so MJ grabs his pinky and applies just the right amount of pressure on it so that it is almost bending backward. Ned lets out a yelp and snatches his hand back, leaving the bag open so that MJ can take her fruit unhindered.

"Jesus," Ned mutters, clenching and relaxing his hand. "Someone's a sore loser."

"Someone needs to shut his mouth if he likes having all of his teeth," MJ hums serenely as she takes the green fruit anyway. Peter is staring again, and she is looking determinedly down at her book as she pops it in her mouth. 

Peter blinks several times as he stares at MJ. Now that he has seen this, how will he be able to unsee it? 

She literally has the perfect mouth. It was kind of like God was making her and just said, “Screw it, I’ve spent enough time here, I’m just gonna shove some freaking flower petals on her face for a mouth.” But in a much more profound way, because if there is a God, Peter is pretty sure he probably talks more philosophically, like May when she’s had one too many Summer Shandies at the annual block party. 

No one says anything for a minute, and MJ looks up from her book with a stare that is somewhere between expectant and exasperated. “Is somebody gonna say something, or are you gonna keep gloating, Leeds?” 

“I’m not-” 

“You’ve got your chest puffed out like one of the mating turkeys in that documentary Harrington showed us last week.” They had spent all of lunch that day making fun of the video, and Peter has to admit that the comparison was pretty accurate. 

Ned shuts his mouth. 

She raises an eyebrow and looks between them, shaking her head slightly as she rolls her eyes.  

“You guys are idiots,” she mumbles as she turns the page in her book.

Peter opens his mouth to talk about something, anything, when he hears an obnoxiously loud wolf-whistle from the table behind him. MJ stiffens, raising her book slightly to hide her face a bit more, but the damage seems to be done. Peter is shocked by this small action of hers... Why would she hide? MJ doesn’t hide. 

She’s nervous. 

Peter’s eyes narrow as he realizes this, and he aims a glare behind him at Flash Thompson, who is smirking in their direction with several of his idiot friends. Thompson ignores his look and calls out, “Hey, Jones, who are you all dolled up for?” 

Peter watches MJ’s knuckles whiten slightly along the edge of her book as she clutches it tighter and takes a deep breath. However, she lowers the book slightly as she turns the page, pointedly not looking up at Flash as she slowly. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business,  _Eugene,”_ MJ responds, and Ned nearly chokes on a grape. 

“Well, I mean, I can make it my business if you’re free tonight.” 

It is Peter’s turn to almost choke, but he doesn’t have any food in his mouth. His eyes widen as he looks up at MJ, but she is not looking at him. She is fixing Flash with a cool stare that Peter would  _not_ _ever_  like to be on the receiving end of. 

“Nah, I’ve got plans,” she responds, and Peter blinks several times. Most of the people at Flash’s table and several bystanders are now watching the exchange. To them, MJ probably appears cool and unruffled, but Peter and Ned can see her white knuckles and locked muscles.

Flash’s smirk turns into a sneer, and Peter has to grip the table to keep himself from doing something he will not be able to take back. “You really expect me to believe that you have plans with someone else tonight?” Flash jeers. “I mean, really, who would take you out?” 

Suddenly, Peter’s body is moving of its own accord. Peter turns and is about to push up from the table, but MJ reaches out and suddenly she has an iron grip around his forearm. 

“That depends,” she responds, her voice sugary sweet and paired with icy eyes,  “Your dad is-” with the hand that is not around his arm, she draws air quotes “-working late’ tonight, right?” 

Several of the bystanders let out exclamations, and Peter listens as voices overlap with laughter. 

“Oh, dang.” 

“Got ‘em!” 

“Dude, that was savage.” 

Flash’s face turns a color that could only be described as magenta, and Peter slowly turns his body to face the able again.

MJ lets go of his arm, raising an eyebrow. “I can fight my own battles, Parker, I don’t need you getting your scrawny ass handed to you.” Still, when he looks at her, there is the hint of a triumphant smile on her crimson lips. Her words, however blunt they are, are not said in a voice of anger. 

“Hey, MJ,” he finds himself saying, and there is a little, hopeful smile playing with his mouth now. 

“Yeah?” 

“You look great.” 

MJ quickly looks down at her book, feigning nonchalance. However, Peter can see the little smile of pleasure that she is currently fighting to keep at bay. 

“I know.” 


End file.
